


Smile

by WinterTheWriter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bottom Steve Rogers, Clothing Kink, Coming Untouched, Established Relationship, Everything is happy and nothing hurts fuck you, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Praise Kink, Smut, Top Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-08 21:58:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18903448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterTheWriter/pseuds/WinterTheWriter
Summary: They say Bucky never smiles, and that's true.Almost.





	Smile

**Author's Note:**

> you all knew this was coming (lol)
> 
> set between whatever movies you want, point is our boys are happy and in love and together

They say Bucky never smiles. 

He’s not an unhappy person — in fact, Steve is fairly certain he’s quite the opposite now that they’re back together — but years of torture and forced stoic solitude make it hard for him to show. Sometimes his lips curl a little when Clint says something funny, and sometimes his whole face softens as he kneels down to let a child touch his arm, and sometimes his voice smiles for him, but it never quite goes beyond that. Well, at least not in public.

Indeed, they say Bucky never smiles. 

But that’s not entirely true. 

~

Steve moans into Bucky’s lips as he’s shoved against their bedroom door, metal fingers tangling into his hair as Bucky works to rid him of his uniform. Their hips are already grinding together, the chafing fabric doing absolutely nothing to stop them, and Bucky rips his lips away from Steve’s to kiss and suck down his neck, making him gasp as he smiles against Steve’s skin. 

With a grunt, Steve pushes Bucky off of him and back towards the bed. Bucky plops on the edge, ridiculous thighs spread, and he watches Steve undress himself with the dirtiest smirk this side of the Hudson. He reaches for one of the straps of his own uniform but Steve stops him. “Just like that,” Steve rasps, voice already thick with lust as he kicks away the last of his layers, “I want you to fuck me just like that.” 

Bucky’s dirty smirk spreads into an even dirtier grin, nearly face-splitting, as he palms himself through the rough material of his pants. “Guess you better come pull me out then, doll,” he taunts, and Steve’s on his knees in front of him before he’s even finished the sentence. With sex-clumsy fingers, Steve works to undo Bucky’s pants, spurred on by the little intakes of breath whenever his hands brush against the hard cock under them, and once he’s pulled that cock out he immediately noses along the length of it, inhaling deeply as he curls his fingers around the base. Bucky tangles his fingers into Steve’s hair and smiles down at him, soft and warm. “Enjoying yourself?” he asks, not unkindly. 

Steve nods as much as he can with Bucky holding his hair, letting his lips brush against the hard length in front of him as he does so. Every inch of Bucky demands worship. Every inch of Steve demands to give it. All they’ve been through, all they’ve faced, and look at them now. With a tilt of Steve’s head he sucks the tip of Bucky’s cock into his mouth and practically sags with relief at the feeling, tongue laving wetly along the underside as he sinks down further. Looking up, he sees Bucky’s head tipped back, mouth agape, lips still upturned. Haloed by the white light of their bedroom looks like everything Jesus wishes he could be. 

Sorry, ma. 

Both of Bucky’s hands grip his head now, slowly guiding up into a steady rhythm. “Yeah, babydoll, that’s it,” Bucky gasps, low and breathless. “Suck my cock just like that — fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he moans out, looking down now to watch. They lock eyes — Steve’s, wet and wide and awestruck, and Bucky’s, hooded and hungry and so, so happy — and both of them moan together. Steve sucks in his cheeks and Bucky curses, grinding his hips up to work himself deeper, so Steve does it again and opens his throat as much as he can. “Y’like that?” Bucky slurs, teeth gritted through his smile as he tugs at Steve’s hair. “Yeah, y’like it when I fuck your throat like this, huh, baby? Get you all hot an’ bothered for me?” He punctuates his words with slow grinds of his hips that makes tears leak from the corners of Steve’s eyes, makes him whimper around Bucky’s cock. “That’s what I fuckin’ thought,” he grunts. 

Steve’s cock is leaking onto their carpet and god, does Steve want to touch it, stroke himself in time with Bucky’s thrusts, but he knows this little game of theirs all too well. He cups the backs of Bucky’s knees instead, holding on. Couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. 

All too soon, Bucky gently pries Steve’s mouth off of him, hissing a little at the cold air. He laughs at the bona fide pout Steve has and leans down to kiss it. Lost in the hot-wet slide of their mouths, Steve doesn’t notice he’s being pulled off the floor until he’s on his back on the mattress. He blinks at the sudden change and laughs up at Bucky, legs automatically spreading for him to move between them. “Cool trick,” he murmurs, looping his arms around Bucky’s neck to pull him down. 

“Nah, I think you’re just out of it, doll,” Bucky laughs back, obligingly pressing kisses to every inch of Steve’s face. He blindly reaches for the lube on their bedside table.

“Well, can ya blame me? Handsomest man in the world’s bein’ all sweet on me.” God, Steve’s glad no one’s around to hear the pure sap he leaks around this man. As it is, though, it makes Bucky stop what he’s doing to grin down at him and press a slow, tender kiss to Steve’s forehead. Steve almost wishes he were naked so he could feel every inch of Bucky’s skin. 

Almost. 

“Sap,” Bucky tuts, lube-slicked metal fingers dancing down Steve’s ticklish torso (he delights in the squirming) to press between his crack. “I love the hell outta you, Stevie.” 

Arching into the pressure of those fingers, Steve grasps the bedsheets with one hand and Bucky’s hair with the other. “Love the hell outta you too, Buck. Now /hurry up/.” He tugs on his hair to make his point but Bucky merely raises an eyebrow at him, circling his entrance with two fingers like they have all the time in the world. 

“I think you’re forgetting who’s in charge here, baby.” His tone is conversational, but the threatening catch on his rim is anything but. It sends the best shivers down his spine. “There’s a reason why /I/ am fully dressed —,” Bucky starts the slow press in of his middle finger, twisting it just enough to make Steve gasp at the burn, “—and /you’re/ naked like the slut you’ve always been for me. Ain’t that right, Stevie?” 

Eyes squeezing shut and head tossed back against the pillows, Steve nods shakily and forces his hips still. “Yeah — yes, yeah, that’s right, Buck.” 

“I’m in charge, right, Stevie?” His finger presses in deeper, starts a slow fuck in and out of him. 

“/Oh/—yeah, yeah— you’re in charge. You’re in charge.” Steve doesn’t even recognize the sound of his own voice, and that’s quite alright with him. 

“There’s my good boy,” Bucky coos, and oh, Steve can /hear/ the smile in his voice. His cock twitches against his abs and he moans when he feels Bucky’s drag a sticky, warm line up his thigh. The words relax him, let him sink into that role where he doesn’t have to do anything but what he’s told by the man he loves most in the world. “Yeah, that’s it, baby, sink down. I’ve got you. Ain’t nothin’ happenin’ to you.” His voice is pure Brooklyn and sex and Steve wants to bottle it as a drink for later. 

Bucky presses in a second finger and scissors both of them, kissing away the furrow between Steve’s brow as he gets used to the stretch. He continues to murmur sweet nothings, all sugar and syrup like he’s not curling his fingers into that spot that makes Steve damn near cry, hips bucking helplessly into nothing, like he’s not smiling the whole time. 

“Please, please — c’mon, Buck, please, I want it,” Steve pants out, forcing his eyes open to stare imploringly at Bucky as he fucks down onto his hand. Seeing him like this — still dressed in his gear, dangerous and sweaty and smiling like a fuckin’ shark — god, it fills him with a desperation nothing else can give him. Every point of contact between the rough and scratchy material of his uniform, the hot mass of his cock, and Steve’s body is a live wire. 

“Yeah, you want it, baby? You ready for my cock? Want it to stretch you out for me, get you all wet and sloppy?” Bucky leans down to bite and suck Steve’s nipples, making him whine and nod frantically in lieu of actual words. “Well, since you asked so nicely…” He pours more lube onto his hands and makes a show of wetting his cock with them, slow and pornographic because torturing Steve is his favorite hobby, apparently, before he kicks Steve’s legs farther apart. He grabs the cheeks of Steve’s ass to lift his hips, and with one smooth thrust he pushes in to the hilt. 

Panting, he folds himself over Steve’s body and kisses him as they both adjust, smiling against his lips. Steve smooths his hands down Bucky’s neck and across his covered back, feeling a primal part of himself deeply satisfied with this dirty, dangerous man claiming his naked skin with only his cock out. He’ll never be able to watch him fight in these clothes again, that’s for sure. 

Finally, the burning stretch soothes itself and Steve hums a little, nipping Bucky’s lower lip and arching his hips. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m movin’,” Bucky faux-complains, returning the nip before he leans back on his knees. Gripping Steve’s hips, he pulls out almost entirely before thrusting back in, and when Steve chokes on a moan he does it again, and again. Steve wraps his legs around Bucky’s waist, holding onto him in every way he can as he grunts and moans with each thrust. Pleasure sparks through him, the slight pain of his cock rubbing against the tac gear only adding to it. 

The slow and deep rhythm turns fast and desperate, Bucky staring down at him with wild, intense eyes as he huffs out moans with each thrust. He grabs one of Steve’s thighs and presses it back up towards his head, fucking in deeper and making both of them cry out at the feeling. The air around them is hot and sticky, suffocating and addictive at once as Steve scratches his nails along the rasp of Bucky’s gear, the back of his neck. 

Each pound of Bucky’s cock knocks the breath out of him, makes him see colors, forces sound after embarrassing sound from him and it would be embarrassing, honestly — these whimpers and gasps and moans — if it were with anyone else in the world, but it’s not. It’s Bucky.

Steve’s never felt safer. 

In his pleasure-filled delirium he wants to crawl into Bucky’s suit and stay there, mold their skin together, until nothing else can ever come for either of them again. 

He also really, /really/ wants to come. 

When he voices this, Bucky just gives him this open-mouth smirk, panting humid breaths against his face as he slaps their hips together with each thrust. “You wanna come for me, babydoll?” 

“/Ye-hes/,” Steve hisses out, hands sliding down to grab Bucky’s ass and pull him in deeper. “Yes, Bucky, yeah, make me come—,”

“You wanna come all over my suit, dont’cha? Wanna make a mess of both of us?” He does something ridiculous with his hips that makes Steve nearly sob in pleasure, hands scrabbling for purchase as he nods frantically. “Yeah, baby, I know, fuck. /Fuck/, you’re so damn tight, so hot for me, my pretty boy —,” he rambles, biting hickeys across Steve’s neck and shoulders, “C’mon, come for me. Show me you know you’re mine, sweetheart, mark me up.”

And fuck, that’s really all it takes. The tension in Steve’s balls collapses all at once, like a dam giving way, and he practically yells Bucky’s name as he comes all over his stomach and Bucky’s suit, arching off the bed and clenching around his cock. 

Bucky’s thrusts get even harder, frantic and desperate and unrelenting as he buries his face into Steve’s neck, a breathless smile against his skin. “Yeah, yeah, good boy, that’s — /fuck/ — that’s my good boy, so dirty makin’ me fuck you dressed like this, jus’ want me to put you in your place — /ah/!” His hips snap forward and still as he comes with a loud groan, shaking on top of Steve before relaxing on top of him. 

For a few minutes, they just pant together, enjoying the closeness. But after the haze of sex has passed, Bucky’s suit and gear become uncomfortable and scratchy, and Bucky reluctantly pulls away to rid himself of them. Finally skin to skin, Steve curls as close as possible as they trade soft, loving kisses and tender touches, smiling all the while. 

They opt to shower in the morning. It’s worth the stickiness to stay like this. 

As Bucky gathers him close with that beautiful grin and those sparkling eyes, tucking them under the covers where no one can find them, Steve can’t help but think that the others were right.

They say Bucky never smiles, and to the team and their fans and the press, that’s entirely true.

Because it’s only for him.


End file.
